An assortment of glittery rainbow pens spills out of my
Pencil pouch, each emblazoned with emblems that
Signal the spectrum of the stories they write…
Technicolor Anaphora
People Pleaser
You pick the pins off the floor for them to walk on it smoothly and unharmed but your hands are bleeding…
surfing
it’s a complicated thing. a sensation that bubbles over in the chest and makes everything light— air…
I haven’t been myself for half a year
January was a wound I dressed by dressing up, as if I could summon spring by spilling watercolors against the sketchpad and calling that art…